


your lips, a full stop on mine

by endlesshydrangea (bloominsummer)



Series: kiss me under the mistletoe 2020 [10]
Category: K-pop, SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - HOME;RUN Party on Board Ver., Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Porn With Plot, Secret Rendezvous, and by soft i mean neither of them holds a gun or any sort of weapon in this, this is the quintessence of soft MW dynamics by this user
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:47:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28159287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloominsummer/pseuds/endlesshydrangea
Summary: A black sash is wrapped around his slim waist, and the item would have taken all of Mingyu's attention if it weren’t for the crown the man adorns. His hair is the brave colour of blood roses, appearing dark under the current illumination but would nonetheless stand out when fanned over white sheets.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kim Mingyu
Series: kiss me under the mistletoe 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2042560
Comments: 8
Kudos: 189





	your lips, a full stop on mine

**Author's Note:**

> written for anonymous :]

Above the open-air promenade deck where he stands, the night surrounds Mingyu as the city lights blink on the far horizon, tall skyscrapers barely visible to his perfect vision at this distance away from the mainland. He leans against the railing near the beam, oaken wood beneath the soles of his shoes, the sound of wave idly crashing against the side of the luxurious ship.

The wind is cold and it smells like snow—it’s a surprise Mingyu hasn’t seen any fall from the starless sky above his head. There was a thin blanket of it covering his driveway this morning.

An esteemed orchestra group of violins and cellos and double basses, woodwinds and bass and percussion instruments plays at the bow. The current rendition highlights the four-string quarter; still at the very first movement, a sonata-allegro form. He meticulously scans the crowd as music fills his consciousness, wondering if the tonight will be a long one for him.

Then Mingyu catches a glimpse of a familiar figure, and his question is answered.At the sight of _him_ , Mingyu’s throat closes up.

The man lingers by the snack buffet, a feast like assortment of fancy finger foods laid above an ivory tablecloth that flaps over the side of the table, blown by the evening breeze.

The elegant suit he’s wearing hugs his perfectly sculpted frame, but Mingyu will have to get closer if he wants to know the type of fabric it is made from. Cotton or wool, perhaps? Suede? He thinks there's also a velvety quality to it. Any of the above, it matters not—the man wears it with excellence. He is the best of God’s handiwork in all rights after all, if Mingyu’s opinion on the matter is solicited.

A black sash is wrapped around his slim waist, and the item would have taken all of Mingyu's attention if it weren’t for the crown the man adorns. His hair is the brave colour of blood roses, appearing dark under the current illumination but would nonetheless stand out when fanned over white sheets.

Mingyu’s fingers grip the top of the rail, the metal cold against his palm. He remains blissfully unaware of Mingyu’s violation of his privacy until he looks up and catches Mingyu’s penetrating gaze.

He smiles.

It’s barely there, just a subtle quirk of his lips, but Mingyu is bewitched all the same, feeling seasick all of the sudden. The man walks away from the table, not towards Mingyu as he had hoped, but into the main body of the ship. Listening to what his heart demands of him, Mingyu follows the man at a safe distance. He seems to be aware of Mingyu’s presence, deliberately taking a leisurely pace and throwing cursory glances over his broad shoulders every once in a while.

Whenever there is a corner to turn, the man pauses. Whenever there is a set of stairs to climb, the man stops at the topmost step until he can see Mingyu standing at the bottom. Eventually, echoes of their slow footsteps resonate across the long hallway of the upper deck. Mingyu draws the conclusion that the man is making sure Mingyu doesn’t lose him.

At the end of their journey, the man pulls out a key from his inner suit pocket and taps it against the electronic reader on the door's escutcheon. Mingyu is still twenty feet away behind him when he pushes it open, but the man leaves the door ajar for him to slip right through. Mingyu closes the barricade between the room and outside world behind him and sets the lock in place.

It’s hard not to get distracted by his opulent surrounding when the man isn’t in his direct line of sight nor his peripheral view. The suite is entirely too large, likely the largest accommodation they have on the ship. Mingyu would much prefer there not be any room for the two of them not to touch.

“Care for wine?” he hears the man’s voice from his right.

Mingyu goes towards the source. The man has discarded his jacket, now slung over the back of one of the dining chairs. He stands with his back to the glass window, the ocean moving behind him, an opened bottle of wine in one hand, two crystal glasses on the other. Cabernet Sauvignon, Mingyu’s preference. He sets them above the table and gently pours the liquid into each glass until it is half-full.

Holding one glass by the stem, he brings it up to his nose.

Mingyu’s visual sense is immediately overwhelmed by the colour _r_ _ed_.

Red, a representation of passion, blood coursing through his arteries heading in one particular destination within his body. Red, wine swirled in the tall glass, rich liquid undifferentiable from deadly poison. Red, as the man’s lips had been the last time they were wrapped around him, stretched to accommodate his full width.

The choking sounds he had purposely made that night still echo in the back of Mingyu’s mind, an afterthought that proved stubborn enough not to leave.

“Hyung,” Mingyu begins, already pleading. “Must we do this every time?”

He just wants to hold him, hold him _tight,_ as tight as he possibly could—and never let go. But the man frowns in disapproval upon hearing his greeting, and he puts down the glass without drinking its content.

“Where are your manners?”

Mingyu’s bowtie immediately feels a little too tight around his neck. “I’m sorry,” he attempts, understanding that the answer to his previous question is a _yes_. “Wonwoo-hyung, how have you been?”

Wonwoo hums.

“I’ve been fine, thank you. And yourself?”

 _Not fine_. _Not even close to fine_.

“I…” Mingyu takes a step closer, no longer able to withstand the vast distance between them. Wonwoo doesn’t move away from him, which Mingyu takes as permission granted. “I’ve missed you.”

So much that it ate away at him.

“You really don’t know how to follow the rules.” Mingyu is a second away from apologising for his disobedience, but Wonwoo just chuckles and cants his head toward the glasses of wine. “I’m guessing we’re not drinking first? What a shame. I could have opened the bottle later if I knew you were going to be this impatient.”

The thing is: Wonwoo knew. Wonwoo must have known because _Mingyu_ does and every feeling he’s ever felt, every thought he’s ever had—Wonwoo understands each one perfectly. He is only saying these things for the sake of the game, and Mingyu is entirely too taken not to indulge him in his harmless whims.

“It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

Wonwoo clucks his tongue. “It’s only been three months, Mingyu.”

“That’s three very long months, hyung.”

“Come then,” Wonwoo extends a hand toward him.

Mingyu takes the hand offered to him, jumping slightly in his spot when he finds the temperature of Wonwoo’s palm to be much lower than his. The older man just smiles again at his reaction, the same smile he gave earlier, then tugs Mingyu in the bedroom's direction.

He fights the urge to scoop Wonwoo in his arms and throw him above the mattress once he catches sight of it; somehow he thinks Wonwoo won’t appreciate being manhandled merely minutes after Mingyu’s broken the golden rule of their relationship. It’s just—they’ve never been apart for this long before, and their immediate reunion is a temptation irresistible to Mingyu.

Mingyu makes a mental note to ask Wonwoo about the opening of his new branch, whether it was worth the time it kept him away from Mingyu. He shouldn't forget to about the new tech company he had acquired during the older’s absence either. But all of that can wait until later. Much, much later.

Because now Wonwoo is turning around, the back of knees hitting the edge of the bed, and he’s looking up at Mingyu. Their mouths are a mere hair’s breadth away from one another, tension hanging heavy in the already suffocating air. Wonwoo still insists on toying with him—playing a game of endurance, to see who will break first and closes the gap between them. Who will give in to the temptation of having the other surrender to them, who will be greedy enough to stake the first claim.

They are so close, Mingyu can feel the phantom of the last kiss they shared many moons ago. He wants to have the feeling behind it once more; a dying’s man last wish, if Wonwoo chooses to prolong this form of torture he is inflicting upon Mingyu’s helpless soul.

Fuck it.

Under normal circumstances, Mingyu has a problem with losing to others. His conscience won’t rest for weeks following the defeat, no matter how small. But Wonwoo is special, Wonwoo has always been special, and Mingyu couldn’t care less about losing to him. He’s lost the biggest game of his life to Wonwoo a long time ago, anyway.

He leans down and gently licks over his lover’s bottom lip, then the hollow between it and his chin, setting a playful mood. His effort is appreciated with a laugh that rings a gentle, mellifluous tune through the quiet of the room.

A shiver snaked down Mingyu’s spine, coiling around the base and making its home there. Wonwoo’s eyes sparkle, desire momentarily flitting across them before new constellations form in the dark, endlessly deep orbs that hold secrets of the universe.

“Undress me,” Wonwoo instructs.

Not without a bargain — “Kiss me first.”

So Wonwoo does. He tilts his face up and fits his mouth over Mingyu’s, keeping the kiss chaste although the lack of depth doesn’t eliminate the sensuality of it. Wonwoo’s hands rest on Mingyu’s torso as he arches into Mingyu, lining their bodies from head to toe.

Mingyu goes to work the moment Wonwoo releases him. He knows he won’t be receiving another gift until he follows through with Wonwoo’s order; even the kiss had been extremely generous on his part. His fingers are steady as they undo Wonwoo’s buttons one by one, the waist sash falling onto the carpeted floor before he slides the shirt off Wonwoo’s bare shoulders. The pants go next, but Mingyu takes his time with it.

He drags the zipper down inch by inch until he gets to the end of the line, then Wonwoo shimmies out of the cloth. Mingyu kneels down to get his feet out through the holes and Wonwoo’s fingers find purchase in his hair, twirling the strands as Mingyu kisses his calves lovingly, moving his way up Wonwoo’s knees and thighs.

The younger pulls away and looks up at Wonwoo in both question and anticipation.

“In the ensuite bathroom,” Wonwoo tells him, glancing to the right. Mingyu follows his line of sight. “Drawer to the right of the sink.”

“Will you come with?” asks Mingyu, rising to his feet. He doesn’t want to be separated from Wonwoo again, even if it’s only for thirty seconds.

Wonwoo shakes his head, movement gentle. “I’ll wait for you in bed.”

He nods in understanding and walks backwards away from Wonwoo, not wanting to lose sight of him until he absolutely has to. Mingyu makes a quick work to grab the fresh bottle of lube and box of condoms, as efficient in the bedroom as he is in the office. By the time he finds Wonwoo again, he’s fully nude, his right hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it to hardness.

“That's not fair,” Mingyu protests, dumping the items he retrieved onto the mattress. “You can’t get started without me.”

“I’m not,” he says in defence, eyes wide and innocent when he looks up at Mingyu. “Just wanted to catch up with you,” Wonwoo points out, referring to Mingyu’s erection tenting inside his pants.

He supposes it’s easy to feel embarrassed here, but Mingyu’s mind is already far too clouded by arousal for him to feel anything else but _want_. Instead of giving Wonwoo a reply that will fall short in intellect, he simply rips articles of his clothing away from his body.

Before long Mingyu’s joined him in bed, kissing Wonwoo again, deeper and longer than the first one they shared. Not a single thread is left to cover their modesty as they lie on their sides, naked bodies pressed flush, their curves complimentary to one another. Two puzzle pieces that fit together, were made to complete each other, _for_ each other.

Mingyu frames Wonwoo’s jaw with one hand, Wonwoo’s head practically pillowed on his upper arm. Their noses keep bumping as they kiss, causing to Wonwoo eventually laugh into Mingyu’s mouth, breathy. He pulls away, takes Mingyu’s hand, and guides it to his intergluteal cleft, a pointed action. The younger man gives him a squeeze on his right cheek, pecks Wonwoo one more time before he uncaps the bottle of lube and coats his fingers with the cool liquid.

“Kiss me,” Wonwoo requests as Mingyu slides a knee to pry apart his own, their legs stacked above the mattress. He bats his dark lashes; an additional layer of allure. “When you put them in.” _Them_. “Kiss me.”

The first finger has Wonwoo hissing through the gaps between his front teeth. Mingyu tames his movement. Curbing his enthusiasm for the comfort of his lover, he patiently waits until Wonwoo’s able to kiss him back again before adding a second finger, working to scissor him open.

His lips feel tingly from all the kissing they’ve been doing, but Mingyu will die first before he stops. Wonwoo’s fingers trail from his jaw to the slope of his neck and splay over his shoulder blades before they venture further down his spine.

Wonwoo shifts forward and his cock slides against Mingyu’s—this time it’s the younger man’s turn to hiss sharply.

“Oh, oh,” Wonwoo tuts, playful. He’s enjoying this far too much. “Someone’s eager. I suppose I should let you have what you want now.” He turns around, red locks tickling Mingyu’s face in the process. With his head still propped on Mingyu’s biceps, Wonwoo pushes back on him, hips rolling slightly over Mingyu’s erection.

“Well?”

“You dyed your hair,” Mingyu finally voices his observation as he wipes his fingers on the bedsheets. He reaches for the condom, angling his lower half away from Wonwoo so he can put it on. “I like the colour. It suits you very much.”

“Did it for you,” is all Wonwoo says to that.

Mingyu lines himself at Wonwoo’s entrance, rubbing around his rim with the slick tip of his cock. “Yeah? For me?”

“For you,” he nods in confirmation, “only for you.”

He slowly pushes his way in.

Wonwoo moans, open and without restraint, the sound immediately overloading Mingyu’s senses. His walls narrow around Mingyu—a perfect, tight heat. His lover buries his face at the crook of his elbow and Mingyu peppers kisses across his nape, the junction between his neck and shoulder. He continues with his tender ministrations until Wonwoo’s breathing isn’t too wrecked, then places a hand over his hip bone, posing a silent question.

“You can,” Wonwoo answers him, somehow already breathless. “You can move, Mingyu-yah.”

So Mingyu does. He keeps Wonwoo's hips stationary as he thrusts into him, only moving his own body when he pulls back and slides in again. Wonwoo is often quiet in bed, but Mingyu has trained for years to listen for the slightest hitch in his breathing. There are times when he’d be feeling so good, Wonwoo would let Mingyu have the privilege of hearing him speak his name over and over again, an important secret spilt from honest lips.

Tonight is one of those times.

He rarely lasts long with Wonwoo—especially not when there’s a significant time gap between the times they’d fall in bed together. In a matter of minutes, Mingyu’s thrusts grow as fierce as ever, his grunts fanning over Wonwoo’s skin, hot to the touch. When his crotch meets Wonwoo’s ass it makes an obscene noise and Mingyu is so addicted to the sound, he relentlessly chases it, unwilling to let the beautiful note disappear from the air.

“You’re pulsing inside,” Wonwoo whispers softly, words half-hidden in between moans of pleasure.

They still manage to capture his attention. “I’m sorry,” Mingyu offers as apologetic as he could. “Does that hurt you?”

He senses more than sees Wonwoo drawing his brows together. “Hurt? Why would it hurt me?”

Mingyu runs a hand down his front until his palm comes right beneath Wonwoo’s navel, the muscles there continuously coiling and uncoiling, rearranging themselves. “Because we haven’t done it in a while.”

The sudden increase of pressure around his erection has Mingyu biting down a cry. “Who says I haven’t?” asks Wonwoo, tipsy on the power Mingyu’s subdued reaction gives him. Mingyu tells him more by telling him nothing—Wonwoo reads his efforts to conceal as declarations of love, and he isn’t so wrong about that.

Mingyu growls in protest, buries the sound on the back of Wonwoo’s neck as he presses his chest against the older’s back once more.

Wonwoo laughs and ruts back on Mingyu. “I have a silicone companion to do the job in your absence,” he explains, voice low. Sultry. Intended to guide Mingyu’s imagination to a certain image of him writhing in bed, pleasuring himself using a toy while thinking of Mingyu, calling for him desperately, miles sometimes countries out of earshot. “But it never quite throbbed inside the way you do. The way you are right now.”

“I’m jealous,” Mingyu tells him, honest.

“Don’t be,” replies Wonwoo, head lolling back far enough for Mingyu to kiss his smooth cheek. “I love your cock most.” He ends the confession with a groan, Mingyu giving him a particularly sharp thrust for his kindness. “For now,” he teases, and Mingyu growls again.

He grabs Wonwoo’s hips—

“Stop.”

A whine escapes the back of Mingyu’s throat when Wonwoo detaches from him, cold air ambushing his exposed cock. Wonwoo pushes him by the shoulders until Mingyu’s lying flat on his back before swinging one leg over his body, taking his rightful throne above Mingyu.

“Wanna look at you,” he explains gently, gazing down at the younger. “Wanna look at you when I come.” Holy shit. Mingyu’s cock twitches at that. “Wanna look at you when _you_ come.”

His hands come up to Wonwoo’s waist but Wonwoo snatches them both quickly, bringing them over Mingyu’s head and pinning them against the softness of the pillow. Mingyu looks up at him; a part of him wants to beg Wonwoo _hyung hyung hyung please please please,_ another part of him wants to see how the scene will play out. Wonwoo grinds down, the movement making Mingyu’s shaft slide over his perineum.

Mingyu thinks his heart is going to fail him in seconds.

“I love you,” he declares, simply because it’s true. Because he needs to say it aloud before it consumes him whole. Because he needs Wonwoo to hear it. “I love you, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo smiles at him, eyes crinkling at the corners. He descends to kiss Mingyu again, simultaneously reaching back to guide Mingyu back inside his body. His body gives a full shudder once Mingyu’s tip is prodding at his prostate again, and when Wonwoo leans back to fully sit on his cock, Mingyu has never seen anything or anyone more beautiful than him.

“Forgot how,” Wonwoo’s eyes are closed, though his hips are moving, “good you make me feel.”

“The dildo’s not good enough then?”

“Don’t be a brat,” he snips half-heartedly, pressing down harder on Mingyu’s wrist in reprimand. “You know nothing comes close to the real thing.”

“Oh,” of course Mingyu knows, “I know.”

“Mingyu…”

“Yeah?”

“Me too.”

There is something in Wonwoo’s reciprocation that warns Mingyu of what’s about to come—and he’s proven right soon enough. Wonwoo would rather ask for forgiveness more than permission; which is why when he starts moving his hips in earnest, Mingyu understands it’s with a clear goal in mind. He lets Wonwoo ride him like there is no tomorrow, his grip around Mingyu’s wrist loosening as he approaches his release. Once it’s slack enough for Mingyu to break free, he reaches a hand out to touch Wonwoo.

Except, the moment Mingyu’s fingers come into contact with his cock, Wonwoo shoots white all over him. His eyes fly open at the first spurt, Wonwoo wanting to follow through with his words— _wanna look at you as I come_. As hard as it is not to look at down at Wonwoo painting his body with his release, Mingyu holds his gaze steadily, feeling the condom fills with the same warmth that Wonwoo drips onto his stomach.

“Shit,” Wonwoo lets out an emptying exhale, his body not yet through the last of the convulsions. “Shit, Mingyu. F-fuck.”

Mingyu sits up on the bed, as the alternative would be to let Wonwoo fall on him and he’ll show distaste about sticking to Mingyu with semen as glue when he comes down from his high later. Wonwoo rests his chin on Mingyu’s shoulder, the younger’s hand rubbing up and down his back, soothing. He takes extra caution not move. The slightest movement will overstimulate Wonwoo—his sensitivity dial turned up to the maximum in the minutes following his orgasm—so Mingyu just keeps them both locked in position for the time being.

* * *

“One more year,” Mingyu says in a voice so quiet it might as well be the whisper of the wind. “One more year and I’ll take over the company, and we won’t have to live in the shadows like this.”

The secret meetings have their own charm to them, Wonwoo’s creativity and Mingyu’s sense of adventure fuelling the fun, but more than wanting to receive an empty card with a cruise ticket and the faint scent of Wonwoo’s perfume attached to it, Mingyu wishes to come home to a warm bed and find Wonwoo in it. Awake, asleep, take a pick. 

And he will.

Soon.

“I will wait,” answers Wonwoo.

“Will you?”

“Even if it takes a lifetime.”

“I won’t make you wait that long,” Mingyu swears solemnly.

“I appreciate that, Mingyu.” There’s a hint of smile in his voice and Mingyu’s chest swells with pride at the knowledge he’d been the one to conjure it. “I’m getting tired of warding off suitors, anyway. That one damn magazine kept including me in the list of their most eligible bachelors.”

He presses his mouth to Wonwoo’s temple. “I know. I’m in there too.”

“Show-off,” Wonwoo comments, voice thick with exhaustion.

Mingyu wishes he doesn't have to talk about business so soon after pleasure. Their families have been rivals for generations, and Mingyu was always expected to carry on the legacy. The competition was supposed to live through him, passed on to his children and his children’s children.

 _Know your enemy as well as you know yourself_ , his grandfather had said when he sent Mingyu off to the same boarding school Wonwoo attended, enrolled him in extracurricular that also interested Wonwoo, made him read books Wonwoo had been seen holding.

 _Study him, find his secrets so you can use them as leverage. Don’t let your guards down, boy_.

But the discoveries Mingyu made about his supposed enemy made him fall deeply in love. There were reflections of his own struggles within Wonwoo, the weight of the same expectations on both their shoulders, the same aching loneliness a result of a solitary childhood.

In his rival Mingyu found a friend, and in his friend a lover.

He can still vividly recall the first time Wonwoo ever kissed him like it happened yesterday.

It was the night of Wonwoo’s beautillion ball—Mingyu had been so irked by the young belle dangling off Wonwoo’s arms that he spent the entire night scowling in distaste, and it wasn’t a sentiment that went unnoticed by the audience. Wonwoo ended up dragging him outside to confront him, his grip painful around Mingyu’s wrist, though it was nowhere as painful as the disappointed look in his eyes had been.

“You know how important this event is to me,” he had hissed. “Why can’t you stand not being the in the spotlight for one night?!”

Mingyu had rolled his eyes, flexing his fingers to fix the sleeve Wonwoo had crumpled in his haste. “I don’t care for attention.”

“Oh, really?” His tone was mocking enough to set off the bomb inside Mingyu. “Because I think you crave it!”

“Yes!” He snapped. “Yours!”

At his words, Wonwoo immediately fell silent. Mingyu read his rejection from the open expression of disbelief painted across his face. He looked away from Wonwoo and tried to pretend like he wasn’t hurt by it.

“Do me a favour and forget I ever said anything.” Mingyu still refused to look at him in the eyes, utterly terrified of how Wonwoo would perceive him now that he knew Mingyu was harbouring feelings for him. Feelings that didn’t have any place existing in their world. “I think my humiliation up to his point should be sufficient for your amusement. Yes?”

Before he got more than a couple of steps away from Wonwoo, the older had grabbed him by the lapels of his cashmere long coat and brought him in for a kiss. It was achingly tender and careful, a complete contrast to how roughly he had yanked Mingyu forward.

“You have it,” Wonwoo said when he pulled away, words coming out unsteady from parted lips, decorated with signs of a recent kiss. “You have always had my attention, Mingyu.”

Each time Wonwoo kisses him tonight, more than a decade later since then, he still has the same kind of tenderness put into the act. He holds Mingyu’s face in his hands like it’s a bejewelled crown.

* * *

“You have it,” Wonwoo breathes out, seconds away from falling asleep.

“What do I have?” asks Mingyu, if only to hear the answer.

“Everything.”

**Author's Note:**

> i hope this is somewhat the CEO!MW anon had in mind <3 it was fun writing this, especially the first half where i have to keep describing things because it isn't dialogue-heavy, whereas usually my writing would be like ,,, 40% dialogue? am i making this statistics up? idk tbh lol
> 
> this is the last english MW piece for KMUTM, if you've been around for them, thank u!!
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/blminsmmr/status/1345724499304484864?s=21) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/bloominsummer)


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